Wolf
by sardine
Summary: Rogues have started a small family in a small forest, where there are unknown predators lurking around every corner. When things start to go well for them, the family is torn apart. Will they ever find a home?
1. Dogfoxes

**I've had this idea for a while, although I'm not really sure why...**

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Chapter One: Dog-Foxes 

Three small kits lay asleep on a mossy nest in the center of minute, shadowed cave. A tortoiseshell and white she-cat sat at front of it, swinging her head back and forth, as if looking for someone. She seemed to pick up a scent and stood up happily. The bushes surrounding the front of the cave quivered, revealing two cats: a big, black tom with green eyes and grey stripes, and a small tom, a little bigger than the kits sleeping in the cave, with amber eyes and a light brown coat. They were both carrying mice, squirrels, and rabbits in their teeth and their eyes were gleaming with pride.

"Jet!" She mewed cheerfully, as she stroked the lithe black tom's pelt with her tongue. She then turned her gaze on the brown cat, her light blue eyes softening.

The cat had no name yet; he seemed to not mind. In the brown cat's world, names meant everything. They described your personality, something important you did in your kithood, or what you looked like. The brown cat was a basic brown color; his eyes were only a dull shining amber. He had not done anything important with his life so far; his personality was a little dull. Of course, like most cats, he was fierce on the inside, and quite clever. He didn't want his parents to name him something stupid; that's why he was waiting so long for a name. He wanted something to fit.

In his parents' world, however, this was all a different story. They were raised by tall beings that stood on two feet, who had five long claws that stroked you, and who had no fur on them except sometimes on the top of their heads. They didn't live in caves or dens like the brown cat and his siblings did. No, they lived in tight,wooden enclosures with the beings, maybe sometimes with big creatures called dogs. The brown cat had not seen any of these things: dogs, weird tall furless things, or the wooden nests. The brown cat was born a long time after this age. His parents had escaped these oddities when they fell in love with each other. Apparently, they didn't want their kits to be raised with these creatures. They wanted their kits to be wild, free, to taste fresh-kill instead of the food they ate with the two-legged, furless upwalkers. So that's why they were in a cold, damp, and dark cave.

His mother coughed, driving him out of his thoughts. He realized that he was standing in the entrance to the cave, the dead squirrel in his mouth smelling tantalizingly sweet. He managed not to drool while he put it down into the makeshift fresh-kill pile in the middle of the cave. He set it down and traded it for a large mouse, leaving the rabbit for his mother or father.

Feeling the burning stares of his mother and father, he quickly picked the mouse and sprinted to the sleeping forms of his little siblings. He didn't want to wake them, so he ate slowly, while watching lovingly them with his amber eyes. One of them, a tortoiseshell-and white she-cat, who looked identical to her mother, rolled over and accidentally whacked her brother, a dark gray tom, in the face.

"Oh, Sky," the brown cat whispered, giggling. The dark gray tom rolled over, light green eyes flaring.

" 'Oh, Sky!' Oh, shut up!" He hissed, swatting a sheathed paw at the brown cat lazily. The brown cat jumped away playfully, but the gray cat just fell back to sleep.

"Whatever, Shade. You're no fun." He muttered, taking a chunk out of the mouse. Shade spat, waking up the other sleeping sibling, a frail auburn tabby she-cat, who was sleeping in the center of the three kits, for the most warmth.

"Eep!" she squealed, then squinted her eyes, swatted at the air, and went back to sleep.

"Alright, Twig," the brown cat whispered into his mouse, his eyes darting away from his siblings and his food for a moment. He had sensed something; something other than the prescence of cats. The moment had passed; he breathed a sigh of relief. This was the third time this had happened. He looked up at his mother and father. They too had paused their conversation for a second. They both looked nervous, with anxiety in their eyes and their fur standing on edge.

As soon as they started to ease back into a false state of confidence, the brown cat buried his unfinished mouse, for he was not hungry any more, and pretended to sleep. When his parents saw that their kits had drifted off, and out of earshot, they started to whisper in worried voices. This was what he heard:

His mother: "Jet, we can't let this keep happening. We need to leave this place. That's the third time those...those... dog-foxes have come close to this cave. They were much closer than last time, too. We need to leave, Jet."

His father: "I know, Lacey, but we can't move the kits yet. You know that. And even when they reach four moons, Twig probably won't be able to make it. Those animals are getting dangerously close, Lacey, but if we train the kittens, we might be able to fend for ourselves."

Mother: "Don't fantasize, Jet. I haven't even seen a dog-fox, but I know by their growls, barks and the way they crash through the undergrowth that they are_big._ We can't fight them, no matter how hard we train. There are also a lot of them, Jet. Face the facts. We need to leave. Soon."

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Oooh... yeah, there is a point to the fact that "the brown cat" doesn't have a name yet. The dog-foxes they are talking about, if you didn't notice, are wolves. Just saying.


	2. Hunting For Secrets

_Chapter Two: Hunting For Secrets_

Leaving Lacey and the kits alone in the cave had seemed like a good idea at the time. Wrong.

Jet and his son had decided to go hunting that morning, for the fresh-kill pile was lower after last night's feast. Lacey insisted that she would be fine alone with her kits; that it would only take a short while to grab a squirrel or two. She forgot, however, that it was nearing leaf-bare and the prey had already started to burrow deep into the ground. It took more than a short while for the two to get back to the cave. Even if they hadn't made the side trip, it couldn't have been prevented.

After hours of hunting, all Jet and the brown cat could come up with were a scrawny mouse, a robin, and, surprisingly, a fat rabbit. It seemed impossible that only yesterday prey had practically jumped into their paws.

"The cold sets in rapidly in this area," Jet told his son. The brown cat nodded, as if he completely understood what his father was talking about. He had only lived in this forest for about four moons, while his father and mother had lived here for six.

"Father, where are we going?" He asked when the terrain became unfamiliar.

"I'm just trying to find a faster route," Jet replied, but he actually hadn't noticed they were going in a different direction.

They padded on for a few more moments in silence, until the brown cat spied something in the distance.

"Wait, what is that?" He queried, while squinting at the figure becoming larger with every step they took.

"I'm not sure. Maybe we shouldn't—"

"Race you there!"

Jet sighed, but followed his son, for he didn't want him to get hurt; especially since he was carrying that juicy rabbit. When he caught up, he didn't notice that his son had stopped in his tracks and was staring at something in fear. All Jet noticed was that the thing they were running toward was an old, rusty, and supposedly empty barn.

"Hey, what's wrong? Is something in the—Oh my!" Jet skidded to a halt, for he had seen what his son was staring at: two, gleaming, bright yellow eyes were hidden inside the building.

It stepped outside of the entrance and revealed itself to be a patchy-haired rogue.

"Why, hello," he said, bowing his black-and-white head slightly. "I had no idea that other cats lived around here. Wolves, yes, but it seemed uninhabitable for cats to live here."

"'Wolves?'" Jet and the brown cat mewed simultaneously, confused at the unknown word.

"Why, of course, wolves." The rogue purred, half delighted that he knew something other cats didn't, and half puzzled that these cats didn't know what he was talking about. "How long have you two been living here, anyways?"

"Only about six moons," Jet said before the brown cat could answer. "We've had trouble with some dog-foxes. Are those what you are referring to?"

"Dog-foxes? Blimey, I guess they are, since you have no clue what a wolf is. Anywho," he said, changing the subject entirely. "My name's Blink."

"I'm Jet. Do you live around here?" Jet didn't give a second glance to his son, who was now staring off into space.

"Aw, naw, I'm just a roamer. You know, live a little here, explore a little there. It's a good life, well, most of it." Blink looked at the brown cat. "So, what's your name, fella'?"

He didn't respond, only stood there, as if listening to the wind. "Oh no," he finally whispered, and took off.


End file.
